


Only the Worthy

by biggrstaffbunch



Category: Marvel (Comics), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Gen, OT3-Brotherly Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-04 00:25:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biggrstaffbunch/pseuds/biggrstaffbunch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After visiting Marvel HQ, Zayn wields Thor's hammer, Liam casts the boys as comic book characters, and Louis is disturbed to discover that his superhero counterpart is kind of a dick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only the Worthy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [childrenbehave](https://archiveofourown.org/users/childrenbehave/gifts), [blackwayfarers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackwayfarers/gifts).



> This is comic book meta thinly disguised as 1D fic. Honestly just a way to get some of my thoughts out after the boys visited Marvel HQ and I thought, "I wonder whether Zayn would be team Cap or team Tony during Civil War arc."
> 
> Stemming off my tags on this post: http://steverogersorbust.tumblr.com/post/69200037306/but-think-about-them-loading-up-on-copies-of
> 
> Passing familiarity with the 2006-2007 miniseries Civil War arc would be good. Sorry in advance if you're a huge Tony fan. FWIW, I did empathize with his inner conflict. But ultimately, I couldn't abide his decision, and neither, I think, would Louis. 
> 
> This is for Ari from childrenbehave and Alex blackwayfarers for their lengthy Avengers screaming sessions with me on Twitter.

"Lads," Zayn says, "We've just visited Marvel headquarters."

He can feel the grin stretching his face, wide and full of disbelief. Bouncing on his heels, he ticks another bucket list item off in his head.

" _And_ we got loads of free stuff," Louis adds, hefting his pile of comics. He flashes a smile back at Zayn, still a bit tired around the edges, red-eyed from the joint they'd smoked before going out tonight.

Liam makes a noise of agreement as he rifles through his own pile. They're in Zayn's hotel room, duvet in a tangle on the floor, loot spread across the king-sized bed. It feels for a disorienting moment like a slice of home, just Zayn and his mates and a couple of comic books, and then he sees the city lights twinkling outside the huge window, remembers that he just got a bunch of comic books that were signed by _Stan Lee_ , and he feels the breath whoosh out of him at how amazing his life is, how amazing it is that he gets to live it with these boys.

"They've given us all the most recent X-Men," Liam says, pleased. "And a few Spiderman issues as well!"

"And a replica of Thor's hammer," Zayn adds proudly. He bites his lip against saying something naff like _only the worthy may wield Mjolnir_ , instead twirling the foam and wood momento in his hand before setting it on the dresser gently.

Louis rolls his eyes, but looks fond. "'Course you did," he says, plopping down on the bed and laying back against the pillows. "They loved you. Rattling off artists and writers like you'd swallowed the bloody internet." He picks up a slim volume entitled _Civil War_ , gives it a considering look. "Think I could've nicked that Hulk statue?" he asks absently, as he thumbs through.

"Oh yeah," Liam says loyally, flopping down on the bed next to Louis. "Tommo the trickster. Like Loki."

Zayn tries not to snort. Louis is very particular about his comic book assignations--he won't like that.

"Take it back, Payne," Louis demands predictably, kicking at Liam's leg. "I'm a little mischievous but I'm not _insane_."

Liam rubs his leg and gives Louis a scowl. "Are you sure?" he asks darkly.

Zayn swallows a laugh and hops onto the bed, leaning over Liam to pinch Louis’ cheek. "Aw, but Tommo’s pretty enough for a god, isn’t he?" Zayn coos. Louis snaps his teeth at Zayn’s fingers in response. Zayn ruffles Louis’ fringe affectionately. “And vicious like one, too."

"Maybe he’s Tony Stark,” Liam muses, a thoughtful look on his face. “Likely to take over the world as much as save it, a little gobby, got loads of cash to burn..."

Zayn nods, thumping backwards, head lolling into the hollow of Liam’s shoulder. "Yeah, man,” he agrees. “Mad, but in a good way. Doesn’t much like authority. But he's got charisma in spades. People follow him."

"All those daddy issues as well, I suppose," Louis interjects, voice deadpan. He looks embarrassed but pleased as he gently whacks Liam, then Zayn, with the book. "Fools."

He goes back to reading for a minute, as Zayn runs his fingers down Liam's ribs, still trying to release some of his giddy energy. Comics and New York and a new album and his best mates; sometimes Zayn feels full to the brim with love and luck, really.

Liam wriggles in Zayn’s grip, grabs his wrist and squeezes, eyes crinkling at the corners as he laughs.

"Well, look, boys. I think if Louis is Tony, I’d have to be Steve,” he announces, and Louis goes very, very still. Liam stops, hesitant. "I mean, I’ve got the muscles already, haven’t I?” he explains in a rush. He grins, but there’s a bite of uncertainty to it. “I was a runt when I was a kid, too," he says. “Like in the movies, with Steve before the serum.”

His gaze flickers down, and in the glow of the hotel lamp, his lashes look absurdly long fanned across suddenly pink cheeks. Underneath the harder planes of his face and the cut of his stubbled jaw, it’s easy to see the ghost of Liam as a child: softer, younger, eager and dear. They would’ve got on so well as kids, Zayn thinks, all three of them. Heart clenching a little, Zayn imagines Liam reading comics by himself instead, dreaming first of being saved, then after saving himself, saving others.

Well. If they couldn’t find each other then, at least they’ve all found each other now.

Louis makes a show of sighing and putting down his book. "Of _course_ you'd be Steve, Liam," he explains patiently. "What, do you think I'd lead a team of superheroes alone? Wouldn’t. Couldn’t, even." He shakes his head. "Harry’s only fit to be Happy Hogan, let’s be honest here. And Nialler, well. I suppose he'd make a good Thor, blonde and loyal and quite the fan of mead." He tweaks Liam’s nipple, smiling smugly at his barely muttered protest. “But you,” Louis continues, and though his expression is impish, his voice is firm. “You’re with me. Always.”

Liam flashes a smile at Louis, dazzling and bright, before turning to Zayn. "What about you, Zayner?” he asks, squeezing Zayn's wrist again. “Reckon you’re Bucky.”

Zayn shakes his head."Nah," he says, but kindly, because he knows Liam just thinks of Zayn as his best mate automatically, no matter what the universe. "I'd be Bruce Banner."

Louis squawks, again putting down the book. "Lame," he claims. "So lame. You'd be Peter Parker, man. Funny and smart and prone to talking loads of shit. Limber, too.” He waggles his brows. “Always gets the girl."

"Yeah, but he never gets to _keep_ the girl, though," Zayn points out, dryly. He rolls his eyes indulgently when Louis ignores him in favor of making noises that one can only assume are meant to connote webslinging.

"Okay, well. Still. You’re Spider Man. I'm Iron Man. And Liam is Cap." Louis grins like all is settled, and Zayn has to hide his rueful expression, because once Louis actually starts reading, he might not be as happy with his alter-ego.

It’s funny. Zayn was barely into his teens when he first read the book that’s in Louis’ hands, but he likes the idea of watching some of his favorite people go on the same adventure, traveling through the colored panels, learning the stories that sleep in the home of him now, stories that have given him his creativity and his ability to dream. So instead of dozing off, Zayn stays awake, pillowing his head in Liam’s lap while Liam budges up to peer over Louis' shoulder and read along.

For awhile, it's quiet, and Zayn measures time against the turn of each page, letting himself sink into the warmth and comfort of Liam’s skin through his jeans, the green smell of weed and cologne that clings to Louis.

Occasionally, one of them will swear under his breath, but Zayn makes soothing sounds and they both settle, adjusting their legs restlessly. Liam pets Zayn’s hair back a few times, fingers clenching sporadically, distress in the lines embedded around his eyes. And at one point sometime after half past 2 in the morning, Louis almost smashes the book down on the floor, only Liam's intervention loosening the white-knuckled grip of Louis' hands.

(Zayn can't blame Louis, really; there's still a giant rip through his own copy at home.)

There’s a strange blue-grey lightness filtering through the window when Louis and Liam finally finish, and Zayn blinks the sleep out of his eyes because he _knows_ what a barely-leashed scream looks like, and there’s currently one caught in Louis’ throat.

"What the _fuck_ ," Louis says very carefully after a moment. He places the book down, face utterly blank. "Hand me my phone, Zayn." he says, and though it sounds like a request, it's definitely a statement.

Zayn hides a grin; Louis' the type to Wikipedia the ending of movies if they get too fraught with tension for him, so it's not surprising that he's not just waiting to read another trade paperback to continue with the story.

Liam catches the tossed mobile and hands it to Louis, looking shell-shocked. “Well, that was a bit of a letdown,” he says slowly.

Louis narrows his eyes. "Yeah," he says tightly. “Let’s see how much worse it gets.” He scrolls through his phone, typing furiously. Zayn can tell the exact moment Louis has read the entire wikipedia page for the arc because he actually _sees_ the blood drain from Louis' face.

"Jesus," Louis says feelingly. "Let me get this straight. The government wants superheroes to register so they can keep track of ‘em, and Iron Man is all for it because he thinks he can _project the future_ , but Captain America disagrees on principle, and instead of really talking it out like, I dunno, functioning adults, they start a war? And then just as he’s about to win, after lots of death and general fuckery, Captain America gives up? And then he gets _shot_?!”

It’s an explanation as distraught as it should be, and Zayn feels a rush of relief, bone-deep belonging, because the indignation on Louis’ face is a mirror of the indignation in Zayn’s thirteen year old soul.

He huffs out a breath. "I know, man. I might've actually, like. Shed a tear when I read that," he confesses.

Louis's expression goes swiftly from stunned to thunderous. "I would _kill_ someone before I let them hurt you," he says to Liam, who looks both touched and troubled by this. To Zayn, he points unsteadily. "And I would never treat you like, like--some kind of--whipping boy--you're fucking _Spiderman,_ what the hell. I’m a dick. Iron Man is a dick."

Zayn frowns. “Wait, I mean, okay, sometimes he sucks, but--”

"Tony put people _away_ if they went against him, Zayn.” Louis bites his lip. “He knows he's going to lose Cap's partnership. His friendship. But he twists the guy's big muscled arm anyways. And even when it starts blowing up in his face, even when people die, he holds onto his bloody arrogance. He chooses _his_ way. Because he's so sure he knows best.”

Zayn’s frown deepens. “Louis--” he starts again.

"I'd never," Louis says, vehement, soft, almost vicious. "You know that, right? If I had to choose, I would choose you guys every time. ‘m not that selfish. ‘m _not_."

Zayn and Liam exchange a look. Whenever Louis talks about the future, he makes sure the others know that in whatever iteration he’s pictured, it’s all of them together. For someone to whom loyalty means so much, Zayn imagines it’s galling to glimpse a reality, even a fictional one, where Louis--or the superhero with whom he always identifies--could ever leave people he loves behind.

“Hey, it’s okay, bro.” Zayn comforts, because he knows better than anyone how Louis tends to sink into these sprawling tales and character histories. They’d almost come to blows once when Zayn claimed Louis was more Rocky DeSantos Red Ranger than Tommy Oliver Red Ranger.

Louis furrows his brow. “ _Is_ it okay, Zayn?” And sometimes Louis gets carried away, does things for the melodrama and humor of it all, but here, he’s really upset. “I thought it’d be a laugh to be Iron Man, but come to find out he’s a bully instead of a hero. Dunno how I feel about that, really.”

This time it’s Liam who jumps in. He nudges Louis with his shoulder and says, “He’s not that bad.”

Louis lets himself lean into Liam’s touch. “Easy for you to say,” he grumps. “Your biggest mistake was leading a secret resistance against your best friend, Liam. All...valiant, and noble, and...broad.” He gives Liam a speculative look. “You really are Captain America.”

Liam shrugs. “We’re the same in some ways, maybe. But. Like, just because we find the best parts of ourselves in _them_ , doesn’t mean the worst parts of them are in _us_. Do you see how it’s different?”

Zayn sometimes thinks people underestimate how genuine, and how genuinely brilliant, Liam can be. He reaches up, flicking his finger at Liam’s lower lip, overwhelmed by the way it curves into a small, encouraging smile.

Louis sighs again, noisily. “I guess,” he says, which means he doesn’t at all. Zayn can already see the Iron Man statue at home going straight in the bin.

“Lou.” Zayn tilts his head back, meeting Louis’ bright blue eyes. “What Liam means is, you can buy as many weird SkyMall gadgets as you want. But you’re never gonna take over as Director of SHIELD or, like. Shoot the Hulk into space.”

Louis gapes. “He _did_ that?”

Zayn winces. “Er, yeah. But look, man. Iron Man was a hero who was human and he made some bad calls, yeah? Steve could've done better, too. They all could've. We're different, though. We don't have to do things alone, we don't have to put everything on our shoulders and expect everyone to fall in line. We've got each other and we _trust_ each other. In a way, you're leagues better off than Iron Man, don't you think?"

Liam’s hand lands heavy on Zayn’s chest, steadying, anchoring. A little of the turmoil fades from Louis’ eyes.

“That's true,” Liam says. His fingers drum a stuttering rhythm against Zayn’s sternum, lips twitching. “s pretty lucky, Lou. Having a partner-in-crime _and_ a co-captain. All Iron Man's got is a suit of armor, his brain, and a lot of issues.”

"And a billion dollars," Louis says absently. But his face is less rigid than before, shoulders less hunched. He looks like he always does when he gets embarrassed for being emotional.

"If you'd stop buying things off adverts, you'd probably have just as much money, you nut," Liam says. Which is so true that Louis finally cracks a smile.

Zayn smiles too, tiredly, around a yawn. “Iron Tommo,” he says. “You’d save the world 100 times over before you ever hurt it.”

A groan, like this is the cheesiest thing he’s ever heard, but the shy way Louis ducks his head, fringe falling over his eyes, is telling.

After a moment, with one hand still braced over Zayn's heart, Liam uses the knuckles of his other hand to brush a soft line across Louis’ cheek. “Do you see how it’s different?” he asks again, quietly.

Louis looks at the both of them for a moment, expressionless. Then he smiles, like a sunbeam flashing across ice. “If Cap says it, must be true,” he says. “Although I get Spiderman in the divorce, sweetums.”

“I keep telling you, I'm the Hulk," Zayn says primly. “Seriously. If you’d kept up sulking, I might’ve gotten angry. And you wouldn't _like_ me when I'm angry.”

Louis makes a dismissive motion. “If you want me to stop sulking, you should rewrite this shit ending,” he says, voice still shaded with disgust. He frowns at his hardcover, then sighs, then nudges it off the bed.

"I guess there is one saving grace," he says. "At least I'm nowhere near as big a dick as Reed Richards."

Because he agrees, and because Louis is so dear, Zayn laughs, and tugs Louis down till he’s sprawled over Liam’s lap too, till they’re a messy pile on the bed, limbs askew, hair in mouth, muffled curses spilling from their mouths.

“Avengers assemble!” Zayn cries dramatically from somewhere in the middle of the tangle, and if he wishes he had Mjolnir in hand just for effect, he doesn’t say a word.

 

|

 

Two days later, as they’re flying back home, Zayn slides a hastily sketched sheet of paper across the aisle. Louis gives him an odd look before taking it from Zayn.

From behind, Liam props his chin against Zayn’s shoulder, watching as Louis’ gaze moves over the paper. The fatigue on Louis’ face softens as he reads, eyes going dark and lips tilting up. In the wavering light from the half-shut window shade, he looks young and happy and so very, very loved.

After a moment, he glances up. “You redrew it,” he says, and there’s honest gratitude underlying the manic sort of glee that characterizes his raspy voice.

Liam nods, chin digging into Zayn’s neck. “He gave me massive biceps,” he says, chuffed.

“As if your biceps weren’t the size of London Bridge already,” Louis says distractedly. “Zayn, this is amazing. You--” he shakes his head, and as always, it seems that a simple gesture has the power to strip away any of the prickly plates of armor Louis so instinctively wears against excessive sentimentality. When he looks at Zayn, his smile is unabashed.

“Thank you,” he says.

Zayn shrugs, careful not to dislodge Liam. “Sometimes all you need is to see a different version of yourself to see the possibilities,” he says.

And it’s true. On the page are several panels depicting Liam as Captain America, blue suit and all, cowl pushed back, shield covered with the 1D logo rather than a star. With him is Louis as Iron Man, helmet in hand, arc reactor glowing a bright blue and brown hair falling messily over his eyes. In the panels, their heads are bent close together, tiny dialogue boxes indicating a discussion rather than an argument. In the central panel, there’s a closeup on a handshake, Cap’s gloves shoved down to reveal the five arrows on his forearm. Then a wideshot panel of all the superheroes, little colorful blobs, with Captain America, Iron Man, and Spiderman front and center. At their feet, a torn up piece of paper that, if examined closely, is the Superhero Registration Act.

In the last panel, Zayn’s drawn all five of them, Louis and Liam and Zayn in costume but without masks, Niall with his Thor helmet askew and hammer slung over his shoulder, Harry with a chauffeur's hat and amiable smile. Their arms are looped around each other’s necks, and to look at them, the first and foremost impression is that of a group of friends, rather than heroes.

Underneath, in scrolling letters, reads:

_For every Civil War, there’s also a Heroic Age._

 

|

 

It’s like this:

There’s a stack of comic books waiting for Louis and Liam in Zayn’s luggage, ready for long nights in their tourbus lounge, three heads curled close and issue after issue littering the floor as the hours wane and the rest of the group sleeps. In those pages, there’s lots of things that make good stories: drama, comedy, humor, magic, romance. Redemption.

Most of all, there’s friendship.

Because this is a world they’ve taken pleasure in owning, like a secret the three of them trade back and forth in whispers and t-shirts and movie dates. Doodling a shield and stars on Liam’s nape with permanent marker, strapping a plastic arc reactor to Louis’ chest before running around a venue shooting imaginary repulsor beams, slipping sharpened pencils between knuckles and stabbing at Harry till he whines to Paul...

But as great as the comics are, some things are better.

For Zayn, the paper and ink heroes can never be as good as the ones he knows in real life.


End file.
